


Stay strong, Brother

by LeviSqueaks



Series: The Denny Files [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Benny tends the hellhounds, Dean and Benny met in Hell, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Separation and Reunion, angst square, that hat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:21:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23060875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviSqueaks/pseuds/LeviSqueaks
Summary: What if Dean and Benny didn't meet in Purgatory, but rather met in Hell?
Relationships: Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester
Series: The Denny Files [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657327
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30
Collections: SPN Rare Ship Bingo 2020





	Stay strong, Brother

Benny was the one who tended to the hell hounds and was the first demon to see Dean when he was dragged down after his year expired. Dean had stared up at Sammy as his vision dimmed… body screaming in agony at being shredded by the bloodthirsty canines. His vision went blank and suddenly the warm, inviting house he’d been in slipped away. Dean was quickly transported as a ripped and jagged soul to hell and it was Benny that Dean first saw. 

Benny looked just the same, weary, but strong… with big arms and wide shoulders and a gentle expression in his eyes as he grasped Dean’s hand and drew him up into an embrace. “Stay strong, Brother,” he murmured softly in Dean’s ear before he was dragged away by Alastair’s minions. 

They didn’t see each other again for 40 years.

When Dean saw Benny again, the other man hadn’t changed at all and the sight of the familiar overalls and fisherman’s cap warmed Dean up as he collapsed to his knees. Benny blinked and stared at the unusual sight then quickly came up to envelop Dean’s tattered soul into a soothing, healing hug. 

They say that touch heals and love can be shown in the simplest of gestures. Benny’s love was shown in how he didn’t flinch away from Dean, no matter what Dean had done, and it felt as if the rips and tears in his soul were mending themselves, allowing him the strength to keep holding on.

Dean and Benny became inseparable in the brief moments they could steal, and they could often be found taking a moment to murmur to each other, clap a hand across the other’s broad shoulders and slipping away to just be. Benny would gather Dean close and Dean would cling to the man’s smoky scented form, the hint of chicory coffee and honey barely there; but just strong enough for Dean to shakily inhale as a relief from the sulphur and blood. 

When the bright white light came, the one that washed all of the darkness and blood away, Dean had been terrified and had instinctively reached for Benny, gripping his hand as a searing, blinding pain grabbed him by the upper arm and flew away. 

Dean refused to let go of Benny, even as the other man’s face was etched with fear and the last thing that Dean remembered when he woke up in the coffin.

Fighting, refusing to let go, his heart racing and oxygen nearly depleted he kicked through the pine and desperately clawed his way to the surface. Fighting root systems and rocks as he scrambled and clawed his way to his first breath of fresh air and the blinding sun. 

He pulled himself out and whirled around… left… right… no one to be seen. He felt his heart clench as he forced himself to start walking. 

It took days. 

Days to find food and water and a car he could hotwire. Days to find a pool hall and hustle some money, to drive down into the swamps. He had spoken to Benny at length about where he had died and been buried and he broke into a hardware store to find a shovel. Even as the blinding pain came from the screaming voice and even after realizing a day in that Benny couldn’t smoke back into his original body. 

It took days. He arrived at the site and found the hole already dug, bones gone. He sank to his knees beside the grave. Numb. Lost. and then a hand smoothed over his shoulder, slinking down his chest and a sob welled and was released as Dean was gathered into the familiar, tight hold.

He stood up and buried himself in the other man’s arms, arms coming around tightly to squeeze Benny close as the sharp scent of tobacco, chicory and honey filled his lungs and settled him… even with the barely there undertone of sulphur. “It’s alright now, Chere. We’re home,” the deep voice resonated softly.


End file.
